


at the barre

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballet AU, Fluffy, M/M, lardo if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Zimmermann is two weeks into his physical therapy for a knee surgery when his team doctor recommends ballet lessons. His ballet instructor turns out to be very attractive, especially when he wears those stupid shorts.</p><p>(aka another nonsense fluff Zimbits AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	at the barre

**Author's Note:**

> This started as tumblr prompt for "Ballet!Bitty and Reviewer!Jack" but I quickly went a off-script and got to thinking about NHL player Jack doing ballet as part of his PT for an injured knee and being crazy attracted to his ballet instructor, so…….here you go. Turns out Bitty’s Ballet Booty is just as lethal to Jack Zimmermann as Bitty’s Hockey Booty, who knew?

His physical therapist had recommended ballet after two weeks of Jack grimacing through his knee surgery recovery. When Tamika up in PR had caught wind of it, she insisted on tagging along with Jack to the ballet studio in Boston. PR was always following the players around for things to put up on Twitter and the website and this was a ready-made, heartwarming video in action. Jack had been more than reluctant to let them follow him around for his rookie year, but now three years later, it was almost background noise. Besides, they had bargained that he wouldn’t have to do one of the stupid face-off video streams for two months if he let Tamika come to the studio with him. When Tater had heard that Jack had struck a deal that somehow involved ballet lessons, he had tried to also invite himself along, but Jack had to draw the line somewhere. If Tater came, then half the line-up was wont to show up in his wake just to watch the Russian make a fool of himself. 

The studio in Boston was easy enough to find, but Tamika from PR who had volunteered to drive them had to circle the block three times before she could find a parking spot that wasn’t a mile away. She set an alarm on her phone for the parking meter expiration and they set off together in the direction of the studio. Jack was a little glad of Tamika’s presence - he almost always managed to end up getting recognized when he drove into Boston, but he had noticed he was less likely to get approached if he was with a friend. He pulled his ballcap low over his forehead and hunched his shoulders as they walked towards the studio. His knee was still stiff enough to slow them down. 

A slender, tiny Asian girl was adjusting a canvas hung on the wall when Tamika opened the studio door and held it for Jack. She flicked them a look of complete disinterest, but then stuck her head into the next room and said loud enough for them to hear, “Hey Bits, your hockey player is here.”

Before Jack or Tamika could react, a short blonde man appeared suddenly in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of tight grey shorts that left nothing to Jack’s imagination and a plain white tee that made his tanned skin stand out even more. The second he opened his mouth it was obvious he wasn’t from Boston or anywhere nearby.

“Hey y’all.” The man’s voice had a pleasant twang that Jack couldn’t place beyond  _ Southern _ . “Come on in!”

He waved them into the small studio he had emerged from and closed the door behind them. Tamika immediately started to unload her camera from the bag slung on her shoulder and Jack stood there awkwardly as the smaller man gave him an appraising look. He hadn’t really known what to wear to a ballet lesson - he’d been told “clothes that you can move in” - so he’d worn some loose basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He felt woefully inadequate and wished he’d thought to comb his hair a little bit that morning. He hadn’t planned on his instructor being attractive or  _ male _ . Jack seemed to pass muster though, because the other man held out a hand to shake his.

“I’m Eric Bittle,” he said. “Call me Bitty.”

“Jack Zimmermann,” he said, taking his hand. Bitty had a surprisingly firm grip. 

“It’s a pleasure,” Bitty said, smiling widely as if it really was. “Have you ever done any ballet before?”

“Uh, no,” Jack said. “Not really.”

“That’s alright,” Bitty said. He patted Jack on the arm reassuringly. “We won’t really be dancing, per se. I’m going to teach you some basic barre techniques that will help with stretching out your muscles and hopefully get your knee in tip-top shape again.”

Bitty had him take off his shoes and socks before taking his place at the barre while Bitty lingered on the other side of the room, playing with an iPod before some gentle classical music started to play out of the speakers. He crossed the floor to where Jack was and gave him another once-over. 

“Alright, first things first: stand up straight and put your shoulders back,” Bitty said. He stepped up to Jack and gently nudged his shoulder into place. “Good. Now, your feet should be hips’ width apart.”

The camera clicking caused both Bitty and Jack to look over to where Tamika was pointing her lens at them. Jack looked down to Bitty who had smiled in Tamika’s direction before taking Jack’s hand and gently dropping it on the barre. Bitty stepped back to inspect Jack again and Jack seemed to pass this time as Bitty took position in front of him. 

“I’m going to walk through a few different basic movements and positions,” Bitty said. “Then I’ll have you do them with me, okay?” 

Bitty did a series of bends and sweeps with his leg and then encouraged Jack to join him. It had looked easy enough when Bitty was doing it alone, but when Jack tried to imitate the graceful toe extension of the other man, he felt oafish. Bitty ran through the short series twice more with his back to Jack and then turned around to see how Jack was doing with it. Jack’s foot was clumsy as his toe extended out to the side. Bitty gently poked his hip and Jack tried not to jump at the way it surprised him.

“Keep your hips straight ahead. Don’t let them turn out like that,” Bitty said. He took his place in front of Jack and showed him the movement again. Jack tried very hard to look at Bitty’s leg and not his quite impressive butt which was outlined to perfection by the tight grey pants that Bitty was wearing. 

The camera clicked audibly again and Jack sighed. 

“Sorry about the camera,” Jack apologized. Tamika visibly rolled her eyes and then winked at Bitty. Jack caught it in the mirror and shot her a look in return. 

Bitty shrugged, smiling sunnily at Jack over his tanned shoulder as he modeled the right posture in front of Jack again. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick and honeyed. “I’ve never minded a camera. My mama stuck me on a stage before I could even walk.”

Jack flushed. 

“Jack has always been a little camera-shy,” Tamika said. This time her wink was aimed at Jack. Bitty let out a short peal of laughter before he waved her off again and resumed the same series of movements as before, coaching Jack through them. Jack concentrated on watching him for the next hour and not on the steady click of the camera. At the end of the lesson, his legs were sore from the repetitive motion, but his knee felt looser than it had all week. 

“Thank you for all your time,” he said as they wrapped up. Tamika had left a few minutes before to fetch the car since it was running out of time on the meter, leaving Jack alone with Bitty. Bitty smiled warmly at him and patted him on the arm again.

“My pleasure,” Bitty said. “You did great. I think after a few more lessons, you’ll be ready for your solo in Swan Lake.”

    Jack bit back a laugh at the chirp and straightened himself up.

    “You think I can make a second career out of it?” he asked, playing along.

    “Oh, definitely,” Bitty laughed. “The Boston Ballet would fall all over themselves to have you in their ensemble.”   
A horn honked outside, signaling Tamika’s return with the car. Jack shouldered his bag and smiled down at Bitty, feeling suddenly shy.

“I’ll, uh -- see you next week?” he asked.

“Sure thing, handsome,” Bitty said, brushing a hand on his arm again with a smile. Jack replayed the sensation of it the whole way home, barely hearing Tamika as she chattered about the great pictures she had gotten. 

 

\--

 

“I got some great shots of you at the studio the other day, Jack,” Tamika said after morning skate later that week. “Wanna see my favorite one?”

Her smile had a hint of mischievousness that made Jack nervous. She had her camera slung around her neck. He gestured at it in question and she shook her head.

“Nah, I uploaded them to the computer by now. These are all from this morning,” she said. “Come by after you’ve cleaned up.”

Jack knocked the open door of her office about thirty minutes later and she grinned at him. He pulled the door shut behind him.

“Hey, Jack,” she said and Jack knew he hadn’t imagined the mischievousness from earlier. “So, did you enjoy your ballet lesson?”

“Uh,” Jack said, casting about for something to say. The truth was he couldn’t remember much from the lesson itself in any kind of detail except for the moments when Bitty had been touching him. He hadn’t stopped replaying that last  _ Sure thing, handsome _ in his head for days. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I guess so. Did you need a quote or something?”

“No,” Tamika said. “I was going to use a quote from Dr. Farris about ballet for athletes in the write-up, so I’ll spare you.”

“Okay,” Jack said, confused. 

Tamika turned to her computer and tapped away with her large red fingernails. She pulled up a folder of images. Jack recognized the studio, even from the small thumbnails. She pulled up one that was cropped close to Jack as he worked intently at the barre with Bitty supervising. Jack’s heart skipped in his chest at the sight of the small ballet dancer - his attractiveness was in no way diminished in the photographs. 

“I’m going to use these two for the article,” Tamika said, pulling up another one beside the first. It was another of Bitty correcting Jack’s posture. Jack blinked at Tamika and shrugged.

“Looks good to me,” he said. He got up to leave, thinking that they were done.

“Jack,” she said sweetly behind him. When he looked back at her, she had her chin in her hand and lips pursed. “We’re friends, right? You trust me?”

Jack sank back into the chair. He surmised that they were not, in fact, done.

“Yes, we’re friends,” he said warily. 

“Good,” Tamika said, turning back to the computer. “That’s why you’re not going to panic when I show you some other pictures I took at the studio and you’re going to trust me that after I show them to you, I will delete them and no one but the two of us ever has to know, okay?” 

Jack’s heart felt like it had dropped through the floor. He took a long moment to process everything Tamika had said, his mind flashing through every moment of that lesson at break-neck speed. He couldn’t think of anything particularly incriminating or embarrassing. Finally, he said, “Okay.” 

Tamika opened up two files from the Recycling Bin on the computer and turned her screen a little more fully towards Jack. It took him a moment to understand what was incriminating about the pictures, but when he did, he flushed deeply, covering his eyes.

“ _ Câlisse _ ,” he groaned. Tamika was smirking at him when he let his hands fall away. He wiped his hand down his face and shook his head. 

“Deleting them right now,” she said lightly and he watched as the computer asked her if she was sure. 

“Thank you,” he said.  He breathed in and out purposefully a few times as his heart returned to normal. The pictures weren’t terrible or life-ruining by any means, but they did a pretty good job of illustrating Jack’s inability to look away from Bitty’s ass. While Jack’s sexuality was something of an open secret these days, it wasn’t something that he wanted to advertise with pictures like  _ that  _ either. He hadn’t realized he was being so obvious. No wonder he’d thought Bitty was flirting with him by the end of the lesson. 

“You going back next week?” Tamika asked, faux-casual, but her wicked grin gave her away. Jack nodded. She raised an eyebrow at him. “You should ask him out.”

“I --” Jack was about to protest, but she held up a hand.

“Jack,” Tamika said gently. “You don’t have to. I guess I just wanted to say...everyone here at the Falconers supports you and would be thrilled to see you date someone. We want you to be happy.”

“Uh, thanks,” Jack mumbled. He was staring down into his hands and focusing on breathing. He still wasn’t used to talking so openly about his personal life. He had been completely baffled the first few times his dating life had been brought up the first year and then, when the subject of girlfriends become too much, he quietly came out, first to Marty and then Tater and then the rest of the team and staff. It had been the first time he could really breathe in years. 

Tamika stood to indicate that they were done and Jack quickly followed suit, opening the door of her office. 

“Hey Jack,” Tamika called after him before he could actually leave. “He  _ is _ really cute.”

Jack cracked a small smile and shook his head at her.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “He is.”

  
  
  


\--

 

Jack went back the next week and the week after that, even though he had been cleared for play and the lessons were no longer strictly required. For the second lesson, Bitty had been just as friendly as he had been for the first, but the third time Jack went, alone and unphotographed, Bitty was slyly flirtatious the whole lesson in ways that felt both imaginary and very, very real to Jack as he dutifully followed Bitty’s movements around the room. He tried very hard not to be too obvious in his appreciation of Bitty’s anatomy, but it was hard when the other man was wearing what must have been the smallest pair of shorts Jack had ever seen. They were barely decent. 

When the lesson was over, Bitty had smiled at him as usual and sent him on his way with one of his lingering arm touches.

“See you next week, Mr. Zimmermann?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. He groped for something else to say, but his head was too pre-occupied with Bitty’s proximity and the faint scent of the other man’s cologne that Jack had never really noticed before. Bitty waved at him once they reached the lobby of the studio and set off in another direction while Jack watched him go, blinking at his sudden disappearance. Jack frowned at himself and sighed as he headed to his car.

When he got to his car, he threw his bag into the back seat and stuck the keys in the ignition but he couldn’t bring himself to turn them. He rested his head against the steering wheel and let the day’s lesson re-play in his head. Bitty’s face was bright and warm in his mind, animated with enthusiasm. He remembered Tamika’s advice -  _ You should ask him out!  _ \- and let out a frustrated moan.

    It wasn’t that Jack didn’t want to - he very much did. He just couldn’t remember ever asking someone out. He didn’t think he’d ever actually done it. The other person had always gone first, usually long before Jack even knew that they were interested. Bitty hadn’t so much as implied that Jack was welcome to take him out though. Or at least, Jack didn’t think he had. He had been plenty flirtatious, but it was nothing that couldn't be taken back at a moment’s notice. Jack was well-acquainted with the game, even if he wasn’t particularly good at playing it. 

    “ _ Crisse _ ,” he swore, realizing he was still in the car, parked across the studio with the keys hanging from the ignition. He yanked them out and then climbed back out the car. His feet had carried him back to the front door of the studio before he even realized what he was doing. He froze there, staring at the artistic logo and debating whether or not to actually go in or turn tail back to the car before anyone noticed him. He had just decided to go back to the car when the slender Asian girl who always sat at the front desk barrelled out the door with several bags hanging off of her, clearly on her way out for the day. She ran bodily into him and he caught her by the elbow so she didn’t go careening back.

    “Fuck!” she cried and yanked herself backwards in surprise. She looked up at him, clearly about to tell him off, when her face suddenly re-arranged itself into surprise upon recognition. She gaped for a moment, her mouth moving without sound before she sighed and motioned for him to follow her back inside the studio. Jack stared after her, not quite understanding, and after a second she poked her head back out, her brow furrowed, and ordered, “Well, come on.”

    Jack followed her inside this time and she waved him wordlessly onto the uncomfortable settee that dominated the small lobby while she dumped her bags next to him and left him there. A moment later, he heard her yell loudly into the back hallway.

    “Bits! Your hockey player is back!” she shouted. Jack dropped his head into his hands and thought of several very creative curses that he would have liked to say out loud to her, but kept silent. He heard something clatter to the floor in the back hallway and then the girl was back, grabbing all of her bags and then heading out the door again as if nothing extraordinary had just happened. Jack was so busy being completely dumbfounded by the receptionist that he didn’t even notice Bitty’s appearance from the back. 

    “Jack?” Bitty said behind him. Jack jerked his head back to see Bitty standing at the other end of the settee and every word that he had thought of saying flew right of his mind again at the sight of those stupid shorts. He stared at them for several moments too long before Bitty cleared his throat and Jack was able to tear his eyes away, blushing deeply. “Did you forget something?”

“I...uh,” Jack said, swallowing hard. He clenched his hands together and looked at the wall opposite him for inspiration, but was greeted only by pictures of dance classes and overwrought tutus. He stood suddenly, surprising even himself, and looked down at Bitty. 

Bitty looked concerned, his head tilted to one side.

“I…” Jack tried again. He tugged at his hair and looked back down to the floor, before taking a few measured breaths. Bitty was still waiting patiently when he looked back up, his eyes a little softer now.

“Jack?” he asked again. It occurred to Jack that it was the first time Bitty had ever used his first name. In lessons, he was always either “Mr. Zimmermann” or “handsome” or sometimes, “sweetheart”. He liked the way his name sounded with Bitty’s slight drawl. It gave him a small amount of courage. 

“Would you…” he said. “I mean, are you free?”

Bitty’s face clouded and for a moment Jack panicked, but then Bitty asked tentatively, “Free?”

“For dinner?” Jack prompted hopefully. 

Bitty’s head tilted again and Jack thought he was about to say no, but then he licked his lips and snapped his mouth shut on whatever it was that he was about to say. He blinked a few times at Jack and sucked in a breath.

“What kind of dinner?” he asked, his voice neutral.

“Whatever kind you want,” Jack rushed to assure him, stepping a little closer. Bitty’s mouth twitched into a smile as if Jack had made a joke.

“That’s not what I was asking, Jack,” he said and Jack recognized the teasing lilt. His brain scrambled for the joke and then, he realized his fumble.

“Oh,” he said. “I meant...a date dinner?”

Bitty let out a small breath of laughter that turned into a full-blown laugh after he took another look at Jack’s face. Jack would have taken it for rejection except Bitty clasped a firm hand on his arm and held him there next to himself. 

“Oh Lord, Jack,” Bitty breathed at last. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Oh, good,” Jack said. He smiled in relief and Bitty grinned back at him. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Bitty said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have,” Jack confessed. “But those shorts…”

**Author's Note:**

> I love your comments! :) Have a great Labor Day wkd!!


End file.
